Who Is This Girl?
by WEast
Summary: Coulson is on a routine mission when he finds a strange girl in a room... surrounded by more than a dozen unconscious guards. His curiosity is piqued, but she disappears before he can learn anything about her. What will happen when they meet again? And who is she?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hello. So, this story is set a few years before Avengers, and focuses mainly on Coulson and his meeting with a strange blond-haired girl (a demigod, if you didn't guess by the crossover category). She is an OC, so this probably won't involve Percy and the crew that much, if at all. There will be some shout-outs to other fandoms. See if you can find them! Hope you like it, please review. I'd love the feedback!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own the blond girl.**

Before it began, everything was silent.

Coulson rested his back against the weathered concrete, head cocked and listening. His hand lay tensed on his gun. Beside him, Natasha crouched, peering through a cloudy windowpane. She shifted, whispering to her comm.

"No threats in sight. Hallway is empty. The only doorways appear to be at either end." A voice crackled in Coulson's own ear.

 _Copy that. Units 2 and 4 report nothing as well. Unit 3 is covering a group of four hostiles on the north side, second floor._

"Permission to enter the building?"

 _Granted._ The two agents glanced at each other, and Coulson nodded. Natasha began prying open the window while he watched behind them. He didn't like the feeling of being so in the open on a sunny day. From the side of the Two-story building to the forest 50 yards away, there was nothing but gravel and scrubby weeds. Beyond that, there were woods and fields until the nearest inhabited place a couple miles west, closer to Albany. Coulson glanced back at the building. It looked like nothing more than a regular business outpost, maybe a place where accountants and lawyers spent their days doing finances and waiting for someone to sue. But this was a SHIELD mission, and there was evidence that something else was up.

The window cracked open, and Natasha eased the pane up. She slipped through and crouched in the hallway, gun ready as she checked both ways. After a moment, Coulson followed.

"Which way?" He asked.

With a last glance behind, Natasha closed the window and started to the left. "The important stuff's always in the back." Coulson followed.

"Too right."

Three rooms and two more hallways later, Coulson was feeling a bit unnecessary. They'd only run across two guards and Natasha had taken them out with ease. As he followed her into the next room, he heard a thunk and a groan. Sighing, he finished stepping inside and looked over the unconscious woman sliding to the floor. Meeting Natasha's steady gaze, he raised an eyebrow.

"You're not leaving any for me." She kept a blank expression on her face, but he thought he caught a gleam in her eye.

"This is a mission. I don't have time to wait for you."

"Careful, Widow. A comment like that could hurt some people's feelings."

"Or their pride-" Natasha was stopped by a shout in the distance. She paused, listening. More screeches followed, as well as some frightening rumbling. They looked at each other, then hurried to the door. Moving as quickly as they dared, they crept through more rooms toward the continued sounds. Coulson noticed signs that people had been there recently. An abandoned cup of coffee, opened files of papers. As if they had run to help with whatever was making the sounds. Finally, a resounding crash echoed behind a steel door at the other end of the room. Coulson and Natasha crept over. In the sudden silence, Natasha leaned her ear against the door, then swung it open, lifting her gun. Coulson was right behind her. Stopping, they stared at the scene.

At least a dozen armed men and women were scattered around the ransacked room. Stress fractures spider-webbed across the walls and ceiling, and craters marked the floor. A polished metal table with spilled test tubes and equipment was overturned in the corner, and more machines lay broken, a few pinning down people. Movement caught Coulson's eye, and both he and Natasha trained their weapons on it. A girl rose unsteadily from a crouch near the back of the room, breathing heavily. Coulson immediately started assessing her. About thirteen, she had ruffled blond hair with a blue streak, and a dirt-smudged black and pink t-shirt with jean shorts. On her feet were chestnut boots with cobalt detailing and on her hands glittered two silver and bronze rings. No weapons. Her bright blue eyes met Coulson's. The wildness in them made him step back, but as she looked them over it faded, replaced with an apologetic look.

"Hi." Met with no response, she looked over the room, then back at them. "Sorry about all of this. Although, I guess you guys wouldn't care. You're not wearing the right outfits to be part of these jerks, and if you were, I feel like you would have attacked me by now." There was a long pause. "So…"

"Did you do this?" Her gaze whipped to Natasha.

"Well, not all of it. Some they sort of did to themselves." She smiled, and suddenly looked a lot younger and happier. "Between you and me, they really aren't good at fighting. At all. My turn. Who are you?"

Coulson stepped forward, lowering her gun, although Natasha kept hers pointed. 'We're with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, or SHIELD. We heard there was a dangerous crime ring here, and we came to investigate. What are you doing here?"

"Is that a government agency?"

"Yes."

"How do I know?" Coulson pulled his badge from a pocket and tossed it to her. She looked it over carefully, then nodded and threw it back. "I was clearing my head in the woods. Guess I got too close or something, because suddenly I was waking up here."

"And then what happened?" She smiled again, and gestured to the room.

"This." Natasha gave a short laugh. Ignoring her, Coulson asked another question.

"Who are you?" Immediately, the girl's face became guarded.

"I was told not to tell strangers that."

"We're from the government. You can trust us." Her expression became dark for a moment.

"The number of times I've heard that, you wouldn't believe." Coulson frowned. Maybe if he could gain some trust, she might cooperate more. He didn't know anything about this girl, but she obviously wasn't quite normal, and he knew it would probably be best if she came with them. His reverie was stopped by the girl's next question.

"Who are _you_?"

"I'm Phil Coulson, and this is the Black Widow, or Natasha Romanoff." Natasha shot him a look, but he ignored it. They'd never win any trust with code names.

He suddenly noticed that the girl was shaking slightly. Her face seemed pale, too. Concerned, he looked her over again and noticed the ginger way she held herself. "You're hurt."

Surprised, she glanced down. "Oh. Yeah, I guess so."

He started moving forward again, but slowly. "You should come with us to get that checked out." She immediately stumbled back, shaking her head.

"No. No, thanks, I'll be fine. In fact, I should probably be going now. I might have been missed, and you know, don't want to worry anyone, they might send out a search party, and we don't need that, so I'll just-"

"You can't go on that leg," Natasha cut in. "We can fix you up."

"No. Really. I'm fine. And my dad wouldn't like it, especially since you're with the government."

Coulson frowned. "Why not?"

The girl shrugged. "He just really wouldn't like it. My whole family'd go crazy actually, well, the half that likes me. You're really better off if I just leave."

Natasha scoffed at that. "What are they, part of the Mafia or something?"

"Yeah, something like that." In the silence that followed that statement, the girl began to edge sideways. Looking over, Coulson noticed a door on the right wall. If he was right, that led to a hallway along the side of the building. If she left…

"Listen, I don't care about your family. You're hurt, and this is the only building for miles. You won't be able to get that far. At least let us give you a ride somewhere."

The girl gave him one last apologetic smile. "Sorry, Mr. Coulson, sir. But that wouldn't work for me." She darted through the door, crashing it shut behind her.

"Go."

Natasha burst into action, springing across the room. She yanked the door open and sprinted into the next room. Following at a much slower pace, Coulson reached the door just as Natasha came back through. She looked at him. Behind her was a deserted hallway and an open window. "She's gone."

"And this thirteen-year-old girl just left the room, lost you, and escaped without alerting _any_ of the other teams?"

"Yes, sir." Fury sank back into his chair, staring at the two agents in front of him. After a moment, Coulson tried to elaborate. "There wasn't time for her to have gotten to the treeline, and we had eyes on the building. She didn't even go out the window. She just disappeared."

"And that makes me feel so much better, Coulson, thank you." He thought for a moment. "You didn't get her name?"

"No. She said that she wasn't supposed to tell strangers who she was. She also mentioned that people said she could trust them before. It sounded like bad things had happened when she had," Natasha said.

"That doesn't surprise me. And how much damage did she do?"

"We didn't see anything, but the room was completely destroyed and more than a dozen armed guards were knocked unconscious."

Fury crossed his arms, resting a hand on his chin. "All right. Coulson, I want you to start looking into this in your free time. Log everything you know, and find out anything you don't. Try to find her again." He levelled a glare at them. "And find out her name.

"Dismissed."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows! I'm so glad you guys liked the first part. Here's Part Two!**

By the next time he met the girl, the only thing Coulson'd been able to find out about her was that it was next to impossible to find anything about her. They hadn't even had a picture to go off of, and it was only because of his and Natasha's great memories that they could even start a search. Coulson had made sure that all hits were streamed directly to him, but every one turned out to be a false alert. Coulson knew it would take time, but even he was running short of patience seven months later, when a hit showed up in northern Maine, southwest of a town called Dover-Foxcroft.

In his office at a SHIELD base in southern Vermont, Coulson clicked on the link, feeling his hopes rise despite the past failures. As he examined the fuzzy photo, those hopes did a full-out front handspring. It was her. She looked older than before, not surprising considering the time that had passed, and she was wearing a sweater with black leggings, but it was unmistakably the girl from the mission. Sending an order to pinpoint the location and track her, Coulson headed to the aircraft hangar.

Watching the helicopter soar away, Coulson put an ear to his comms device. "Okay, where is she?" A voice crackled back at him.

 _Twenty minutes ago she headed to a point five minutes west of you before dropping off the grid. Start there._

"Copy that." Turning left, Coulson started walking. Disappearing into the tree line, he kept his eyes peeled, looking for any sign of the girl. For a while there was nothing, but suddenly Coulson reached a gap in the forest and stepped into a tiny clearing that definitely hadn't been there thirty minutes ago.

Tree stumps littered the area, their upper halves lying crushed on the forest floor. The ground was scorched and some of the trunks were still smoking. Animal prints were visible in the churned-up earth, a strange mix of big cat and, was that goat? A fine yellow powder coated a spot in the middle. Most worrying of all, Coulson could see traces of a person stumbling out of the clearing, crushing shrubs and breaking branches. Jogging quickly, he followed the trail.

Racing through the woods, Coulson sheathed his gun in favor of finding his first aid kit. Judging by the drunken course and the number of broken branches, the girl was probably seriously injured. She'd need help, and this time, he'd make sure he brought her in.

Noticing a lemon-yellow flash between the trees, he sped up, before stopping abruptly. He stared at the girl, who was brandishing a steel pole at him, eyes murderous. Raising his hands, he stepped back. "It's okay. I'm here to help."

"Who are you?"

He frowned. "Don't you remember?" At her confused look, he elaborated. "Last August, my partner and I met you in an office building in upstate New York, a cover for a crime ring. You left before we could talk properly." After a moment, her eyes widened with recognition, and the dangerous edge faded away.

"Right. You're the government guy. With the red-haired serious woman."

"Yes," Coulson replied, nodding.

"What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

The girl raised her eyebrow, surprised. "Why me?"

"You're a mystery. We wanted to know more about you."

"We," the girl repeated. She started backing up, only to fall as her left leg gave out. Coulson made to step forward, but she raised the metal stick at him. Looking her over, he noticed the way she held her leg, as well as a gash on her right shoulder, covered with a strip of her sweater's hem. She started talking again, and Coulson looked back at her face. "Let me guess, 'we' is your agency, your boss."

"Yes." Coulson answered honestly, "but we don't want to hurt you. We just want to know more, and help you."

The girl gave a sharp laugh. "Mr. Coulson, in my experience, those two things don't go together."

Coulson kept pushing. "You need help. Your leg is hurt and you're bleeding. Let me help."

"No. You're not coming near me." A hard tone rang in her voice, leaving no room for argument. She stopped for a moment, then added, "If you really want to help me, throw me the first aid kit and back up."

He did. Keeping her eyes fixed on him, she rifled through it, pulling out two long cloth bandages and fasteners. She wrapped one tightly around her leg and the other across her shoulder, then, gripping a low branch, pulled herself up. When Coulson went to move forward, she stopped him with a glare. Reaching back down, she picked up the kit and threw it back to him. Pointing, she told him, "Stay there," and began backing away, limping heavily.

Coulson couldn't help himself. "Wait!"

She stopped. "What?"

He waffled for a moment, then finally just sighed. "Do you have anywhere to go?"

"Yes."

"Can you get there? Today, I mean." She regarded him, calculating.

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll let you go, and trust you'll be okay for now, but we will be keeping an eye on you."

The girl smiled then, slightly sad, slightly amused, and a bit condescending. "Mr. Coulson, three things. First, you couldn't stop me from leaving anyway. Second, I'd like to see you try to keep up with me. And third," she paused. "Thanks. You're not half-bad for a government man." Then she turned and hobbled away, glancing back repeatedly, until she was out of sight. Coulson waited five minutes, then headed back the way he came, radioing for the chopper. As it soared into sight, he couldn't help shaking his head. All that, and he still hadn't gotten her name.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hi, everyone. Thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows! They've made my day! I hope you enjoy Part Three, and please comment!**

The third time Coulson ran into the girl, he wasn't trying to find her. Honestly, he'd almost forgotten about her amid all the other problems SHIELD was facing in the world. They'd been running into more cases of unusual people and artifacts, and as a high-class agent, Coulson had his hands full. Two months after the Maine encounter, the girl was the last thing on his mind as he headed off to a mission in Boston.

Reports had been coming in about strange happenings in the bay for weeks. People were complaining about a mess of half-eaten and rotting fish showing up in the streets by the water, and fishermen were telling tales of a sea-beast. Coulson couldn't help rolling his eyes at that. He could vouch for the fact that there were unexplained forces in the world, but a sea monster living in Boston was far-fetched, even to him.

Walking through the streets of the city, Coulson was so focused on his task that he barely noticed the blond head ahead of him, even as it continually took the same turns as him. In fact, it was the continuing catcalls that caught his attention, forcing him to look more closely at the targeted person. As he did, his blood seemed to freeze and his step faltered. Striding with her head high and her back straight was the mystery girl. As she turned her head towards one of the whistlers, Coulson caught sight of the disgusted look on her face, still familiar after a few months. Caught between the desire to follow her and the need to complete his mission, Coulson almost raised a hand to his earpiece before remembering that this mission was sans comms. He was on his own.

It turned out he didn't have to choose. The girl was following the same path he had planned to take, headed toward the bay. Dropping to half a block behind her, he kept his distance.

Suddenly, the girl ducked to the side, heading down a deserted alley. Peeking his head in, he was just in time to see her lean out over the murky water, peering into the depths. Without hesitation, she jumped in.

Jogging to the end of the way, Coulson leaned over as far as he dared, searching for a sign of the girl. There was nothing but water.

"Damn." He'd been so close. Running a hand through his hair, he turned, then spun back to face the bay. He could always wait for her to come back up. Even if it was a ways away, he could see in what direction she was heading. He could still talk to her. He moved back a bit, waiting.

Ten minutes later, he was still waiting, but a lot more anxiously than before. There'd been no sign of the girl, not a single trace. Coulson was worried. He'd known since their first meeting that there was something different about this girl, but no one could stay underwater for that long without needing to breathe, and she definitely hadn't had an air tank with her. He was seriously considering jumping in, or at least trying to find help, when the water below him began to bubble. Curious, he stepped to the edge of the wall, craning his head to get a better look.

Out of the blue, a huge splash was heard, and something came rocketing out of the water, almost hitting Coulson as he hurriedly backpedalled. It hit the brick alley wall with a wet splat. When the mass stumbled to its feet, Coulson realised with a jolt that it was the girl. He didn't have much time to think about that, however, as a great sucking sound came from the bay. Looking back, Coulson saw some _thing_ creeping over the low wall, a giant sac-like mass with slimy greyish-yellow skin, like a huge slug. He moved to take out his gun, but before he could, the girl shoved him aside, striding forward. Somehow, she was holding a metal rod like in Maine. Turning her head sharply, she shot Coulson a look filled with command and fury.

"Stay back. This isn't your fight." Coulson opened his mouth to protest, but the girl had already turned back to the strange creature as it made its way down the alley.

With a ferocious grin, she dove toward it, dodging as it lashed a tentacle-like glob at her. She seemed to whack the creature a few times with the stick, but then it lunged. As it flew through the air, Coulson saw her eyes widen. Reacting on instinct, she smacked it like a baseball. The creature shrieked as it flew, thunking into the brick wall next to Coulson. Instinctively, he grabbed the nearest thing he could find and whacked it. The slug creature seemed to deflate under the weight of a trash can lid.

By that time, the girl had stalked over. Leaning down, he heard her whisper, "You should have stayed out in the ocean. Remember that next time." She stabbed the stick at the creature, which let out a whuff of air before deteriorating into nothing more than a greasy slick on the pavement. Heaving a sigh, the girl turned to Coulson. "Thanks for that."

He glanced down at the slime-covered lid in his hand, dropping it hurriedly. "No problem. But maybe you'd like to tell me what that was."

"Nah," she said with a smile. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure myself. But it wasn't good. Did you smell it? Ugh."

He couldn't help but smile. "It was hard not to." The girl looked him up and down, her grin widening.

"You're the man I met before. Maine, wasn't it?"

"And Albany before that."

"Yeah. Coulson, right?"

"Yes."

She glanced at the bay for a second, before turning her attention back to Coulson. "Were you following me again?"

"Not on purpose," he replied. "I was looking for the thing that's been causing so much trouble around here the last few weeks."

At that, the girl laughed, a burbling sound. "Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but…" She poked the dark smear on the ground. "That was it."

He raised his eyebrows. "That?"

"Yup. Lovely, wasn't it?"

"Mmm." His gaze suddenly turned sharp. "How did you do that, anyway?"

"Do what?"

"Stay underwater for so long. I was watching. You never came up."

"Um," she looked more nervous, but raised her chin to look back evenly. "Why would I tell you, with some other government person in your ear listening?"

"Actually," he said, turning his head slightly, "No one's listening. I don't have anything on me. This was a no comms mission."

"Really?" He could tell she didn't believe him. Her sharp blue eyes looked him up and down, her lips pursed. She huffed, then smirked a little. "Here. Because you helped me, I'll throw you a bone. Two, in fact. One, my name is Waverly East. W-A-V-E-R-L-Y E-A-S-T. And two, I was born in this city." She started backing away with a saunter. "Good luck, Mr. Coulson." With a salute, she turned and jogged away. At the end of the alley, she looked back for a second. With a twinkle in her eye, she turned the corner, leaving Coulson alone in the alleyway. Shaking his head, he began to follow slowly, before remembering something. Quickly, he turned and scanned the alleyway. After a moment, he kept walking, with more questions than before swirling in his head as he considered where the girl- Waverly's- metal stick could have gone. After all, she hadn't been holding it when she left.


	4. Chapter 4

By their next meeting, Coulson was rather pissed. Of course, it didn't help that their next meeting was right after a particularly unsuccessful mission chasing mysterious energy signatures that were apparently within 100 yards, but completely invisible to the naked eye. And all of their cutting-edge SHIELD technology. Also, like the time before, it was a bit of an accident that Coulson saw Waverly at all.

Sighing, Coulson ran a hand over his head. After a fruitless five hours stomping through freezing Burgess, Maine, he'd had it. He signalled to his crew to pack up the equipment and load it onto the cloaked Quinjet outside of town. There was nothing here, not anymore. As the other agents hauled the heavy crates up the ramp, Coulson swept his gaze over the small town one last time. When his eyes spotted a sheet of blonde hair on the other side of a tiny pond, he almost couldn't believe it. Only a closer look confirmed that it really was the girl, Waverly. She was wrapped up in a shiny winter coat and dark-washed jeans tucked into her brown boots. She'd lost the blue streak in her hair, which was longer now, a brilliant golden color. She hadn't noticed him, shielding her eyes as she stared off into the sky, but after a moment he saw her back stiffen as she whipped her head around to look right at him. After a moment, she gave a small grin. With a challenging look, she sat down on the grass, cross-legged, watching.

Immediately, Coulson turned back to his team. He beckoned Agent May over with a finger.

"What is it, Coulson?" she asked as she stalked over.

"I've decided to stick around a little longer. I want you to take the team back to the base and debrief."

She stared at him with a deadpan expression. "You're not serious."

"I am." Seeing her look, he hurried to add, "I just want to see what I find. Besides," he tried a smile, "I saw a great bakery on Main Street. You know I'm a sucker for pastries." She held his gaze for a moment longer, then huffed and turned away, heading up the ramp.

"Fine, but don't complain to me when Fury chews you out."

"Don't worry. I won't."

Coulson kept a straight face as he walked up to Waverly, standing with his feet apart and arms crossed, the picture of an intimidating agent. She squinted up at him.

"You look grumpy." He remained silent. "You know, it's a pity. You just missed a friend of mine." Nothing. "Why do you look like I just kicked your grandma?"

He ignored the question, saying, "How is it that there is no mention of a Waverly East being born in any hospital anywhere within the limits of Boston within the past twenty years? In fact, tell me how there is no mention of a Waverly East matching your description anywhere in the entire world, except for a few glimpses in security videos and accidental photo bombings in various places around the globe."

She had the nerve to smile. "Hey, I told you I was born in Boston. I never said it was in a hospital."

Not a single flicker of emotion crossed his face. "You knew I wouldn't be able to find anything on you. That's why you told me your name. You just wanted me to trust you."

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, it was supposed to be a small show of trust." She raised a hand in a pinching gesture. "A little one. And to be honest, I'm surprised you haven't accused me of faking my name yet."

"You didn't lie," he responded immediately. She raised her eyebrows, looking surprised.

"How do you know?"

He shrugged. "I'm an agent. I'd know. And you don't strike me as the type to not tell your name for the better part of two years, and then lie about it."

She nodded, lips pursed. "Hm. You're right. Sit down." He glanced at the snow-covered ground.

"I'd rather not." She smirked.

"Suit yourself." She then rested her elbow on her knee, propping her chin up with her hand. "So. What brings you here?"

Half an hour later, Coulson looked at Waverly as he stood up. "One thing I don't understand about you, Waverly."

"Just one?" He gave her a look, then continued.

"I've never seen you with anyone, nor have you ever given any indication of having a home. From the photos I've found, plus my own experiences, you've travelled all around the world, yet there's no records of you anywhere, or money for you to use. Even during this conversation, you haven't told me a thing about yourself. Technically speaking, to the world, you don't exist. And what I don't understand is, how do you live?"

"Very good question, Mr. Coulson."

"And the answer is?"

"I have my ways," she said, eyes twinkling. "And I'm not alone." She grinned ruefully. "Friends are everything, you know. They can even beat out family." She glanced up at the sky, and frowned as she noticed the lowness of the sun. "Speaking of which, I need to meet up with some friends now. See you again sometime, Mr. Coulson?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. "And maybe this time there won't be an eight month gap."

"Sounds great." She was headed off around the pond, into Burgess, when she stopped and turned around. "And thanks for not calling in your team on me."

He gave a nod, and she continued on, disappearing into the bustle of the town. He thought on her last words. Why wasn't he calling his team and bringing her in, or at least recording their conversations? He was almost positive she wasn't normal. Not doing anything about her had to be bending the rules of SHIELD, if not breaking them entirely. It went against everything he knew.

He shook his head. It was crazy, but for some reason, his gut instinct was to protect Waverly. There was something about her that made him think she was special in a good way, the kind of special that SHIELD would see as a threat even if it wasn't. She seemed like a good kid. And whatever she said, he could tell that she was pretty alone. Heaving a sigh, he reached for his cell phone to call a Quinjet, already compiling a report to Fury in his head.

 _As there have been no conclusive sightings of the target for over a year, I recommend that the case is de-prioritized to an inactive level, pending new information…_

 **AN: Hope it was okay. I know not a lot happened, but I felt Waverly and Coulson needed some time to just talk about random stuff and get to know each other better. You know, building relationships and all that jazz. Don't worry, there will be action next chapter! Please review, I'd love the feedback! (P.S. The mysterious energy signature was a reference to another fandom. Do you know who it is? )**


	5. Chapter 5

In his own opinion, Coulson thought that he and Waverly had become friends, or as close to it as could be when he worked for a top-secret government agency and one of her biggest goals was to avoid government detection. Over the past seven months, they'd met many times, usually in the weirdest places. Coulson still didn't know how Waverly had managed to get inside a Ten Rings hide-out in lower Turkmenistan, much less without the group knowing she was there. When SHIELD had finally located and stormed the base, all that was left was some beat-up guards and smoking rubble. Coulson had been mystified, at least until he'd seen Waverly waving from behind part of the caved-in wall. Yet, she'd been gone by the time he'd reached the pile. Another time, he was getting a bagel in Connecticut after a stakeout when she'd walked into the shop. He'd also bumped into her in Phoenix at one point. Well, more accurately, she'd accidentally bodyslammed him. Some of the meetings had been uneventful, brief chats before they both headed off to wherever they need to be. However, the majority of the time he could tell something else was going on. Waverly was almost always in a rush, acting like demons were chasing her. In their conversations, she often mentioned fights with some people or somethings, before clamming up as to what they were. If Coulson pressed, she just levelled her gaze at him and said, "The world is bigger than you know," before sprinting off, or changing the subject. Yes, Coulson knew the teen was different. He just didn't know how, not until more than two years after their initial meeting, when he finally got to see her in action. And it was quite a sight to behold.

* * *

Coulson had been enjoying some downtime in his office when the call came in from Fury. He'd been tempted to ignore it, except of course for the fact that it would be more than his job was worth, and because Fury wouldn't have gone to him first unless something highly unusual was up. Expecting a demand for Barton or Romanoff's services, he answered the call.

"Coulson."

"Yes, Director?"

"We have a situation in Ireland that I want you to check out." Coulson frowned.

"Ireland? What is it?"

"There is an unidentified creature running loose around the country. It has caused damage in multiple towns already, and is heading in the general direction of Dublin. It's still miles away, but as we don't yet know what it is, I want you to head out there and find out, then report back to base. We may need to send a team to handle it."

"Of course, Director. I'll get right on it." Hanging up with a sigh, Coulson ran a hand over his head, before sitting up straight and tapping a button on his desk's screen. "I need a ride to Ireland. Give me something fast."

* * *

The Quinjet dropped him outside a town near the creature's location where he could rent a car to take him to it. As they didn't know anything about it, including how fast it could move, he needed a pair of wheels. Following the coordinates, Coulson wound along scenic Irish roads, ending up by a long lake called Lough Ree surrounded by green fields and trees. According to his information, the creature had stopped along the western edge of the lake, although it might not stay there for long. Coulson opened the car door and stepped out, keeping his eyes open as he strode toward the blinking dot on his screen. He was almost there when a voice sounded from his left.

"Well, fancy meeting you here." Spinning, he couldn't stop a rueful grin from crossing his face.

"Waverly. I should have known you'd be around." She cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Trouble follows you everywhere." Immediately, she shook her head, an earnest look on her face.

"No, no, you've got it all wrong. _I_ follow _trouble_ everywhere. Believe me, this guy would be here even if I wasn't. I just came to help." Coulson looked at her quizzically.

"This guy. You know what the creature is?"

"Yup," she nodded. "And trust me, you're gonna want to sit this one out."

"Why?"

"Because what you're looking for, you do not want to get angry."

"And what do you plan to do?"

"What else? Get him angry."

* * *

Crouching awkwardly in a tree next to the lake, Coulson was very busy arguing with himself about the wisdom of his current position. One side was set on climbing out of the tree and helping the teenager standing twenty feet away on the grass, and the other was firmly repeating that he had no way of actually helping her. He didn't even know what she was up against. Unfortunately, the second voice was winning.

Just as he added a tally to Number Two's growing score, a rumbling sound, like a giant jogging across the earth, started in the distance. Waverly checked over her shoulder to make sure Coulson was out of the way. Seeing him safe in the tree, she called, "He's coming. Remember to stay there and keep out of sight. You're no match for this guy, no matter how good you are."

"And you are?" he replied. Waverly just cracked a grin.

"I guess we'll see. But believe me," she said as the pounding sound grew, "either way, this is gonna be fun."

Just then, the noise stopped. At the edge of the grass, a looming shape formed among the trees. A snuffling sound came from it, and the creature took a step into the open. Suddenly, Coulson noticed that Waverly was holding a glowing bronze stick, gripping it like a sword. Its light grew to fill the area and illuminated the creature. Coulson's eyes widened.

Huge and muscled, the brute was apish, with long dragging arms and a thick brow. Huge tusks extended from its mouth, and tangled dark fur covered it entirely.

"Waverly," Coulson whispered from the tree. "What the hell is that?" Waverly crouched slightly, muscles wound like springs, eyes narrowed as she looked the beast over.

"That, my dear Coulson, is what I like to call a troll, although I believe the scientific name is Brutus great-and-ugly."

Coulson shook his head. "But that's impossible. Trolls don't exist." With a snort, the beast lowered its head, about to charge Waverly. With a moment to spare, the girl glanced up and met Coulson's gaze.

"Yes, well, on that I beg to differ." Then the troll lunged. Before Coulson could even yell, Waverly had sprung into motion. She leapt up and kicked off the troll's forehead, vaulting over him and landing feet away as he slammed into an oak tree. Turning, his eyes glowed red as he howled. He rushed her again and she spun to the side, rolling under his arm as it groped for her. She sliced the stick at his back, but he whipped around and she had to duck to avoid his tusks. The troll continued to attack, and Coulson watched in amazement as Waverly weaved her way around him, barely missing being skewered or crushed. After a moment, he risked talking again.

"You know, it might be better if you weren't fighting with a stick."

Not even sparing a glance, she replied, "It's not a stick. It's a sword."

"What?" Confused, Coulson looked back at the stick and almost fell out of the tree when it seemed to shimmer, shifting into the shape of a silver and bronze sword. Speechless, he stared at it as it flashed across the troll's chest, leaving a red line. Noticing his shock, Waverly let out a chuckle and continued to fight. She flipped backwards to avoid the creature's wild swing and ducked under his arm to catch him in the back. Roaring, he tried to backhand her but she dodged. Her grace and speed was mesmerizing. Coulson started to believe that Waverly might be able to defeat the beast unscathed. Unfortunately, the thought came too soon.

Waverly thrust her sword into the troll's chest, and it roared and twisted away, yanking the handle out of her grip. With a sweep of its meaty paw, it knocked Waverly away. She rolled into a tree, her head thudding against the bark. Coulson winced. The troll howled at the sky, its hands grabbing at its chest. After a moment, it managed to remove the sword and turned to find its opponent. Coulson glanced back at Waverly, who was just sitting up. Her eyes looked blurry as she gazed around, before focusing on the charging monster. She looked up and met Coulson's horrified gaze.

"See, this is why I chose to fight him near a lake." Waverly turned her head to glare at the azure surface, her gaze intense. Her hands clenched into fists. Then, something almost unbelievable happened.

The lake's surface began to churn, waves forming and surging toward the shore. A massive rush of water poured over the bank, sweeping into the troll and lifting it off its feet. With a roar, the water's momentum turned and it gushed back into the lake. Waverly rose unsteadily, watching the water with an unwavering stare. The surface of the lake roiled as the troll fought against the current, before finally stilling. A yellowish powder coated the lake. Waverly walked forward and reached her hand under the water, staying still a moment before standing back up and turning around. Her eyes found Coulson in the tree.

"You can come down now." After a pause, Coulson crawled out of the tree, his mouth hanging open. Waverly regarded him, one eyebrow raised.

"You know, if you stay like that too long, you're going to get bugs in your mouth."

Coulson gaped at her. "How long have you been able to do that?" She scrunched her nose.

"Since I was nine, so… six years." His shoulders sagged in disbelief. An amused smile grew on her face. "You alright there?" Coulson shook his head.

"I will be." He paused and surveyed her. "How?" She shrugged.

"I come from a very special family. It's in your best interest if you don't know any more than that." After a second she hurried to add, "But don't worry. We aren't here to hurt you." She smiled. "In fact, people like me have been protecting you guys for hundreds of years."

"You guys? What do you mean, 'you guys'?"

"I mean everyone. The world." Waverly watched his expression with a small smile. After a moment, she patted his shoulder. "Okay. Well, I think you need to let that sink in, so, I'm just going to be going now. See you around?" Without waiting for an answer she backed away, stopping after a few feet. Straightening her posture, she cut her hand in a casual salute. "Bye for now, C-dog!" Then, in front of Coulson's very eyes, she dissolved into a pillar of water and sank into the ground, washing away.

Coulson stood there for a good thirty minutes, gaping. Finally, he had enough sense to take out his phone and call Fury. In a daze, he walked back to the car.

"No, sir, I don't need any back-up. The creature is gone. No, it wasn't a threat…"

 **AN: Hello! Thank you, everyone who favorited and followed this story. It's really made my day. I hope you liked the next installment! Just a head's up, I have the next two parts written, and an idea for after that, but I'm still trying to figure out what to do. So, do any of you have any ideas of things you might like to see? I can't promise I'll include it, but I'll give it some thought. And also, do you guys want Waverly to tell Coulson who she is during the story? Please, review! And a question: If you were a demigod, who would your parent be?**


	6. Chapter 6

Coulson was honestly surprised when he learned that Waverly knew Tony Stark. Looking back on it, he guessed it made sense. Stark was an overly curious person who loved learning about things he shouldn't, and Waverly went so many places each week that it was hard for her not to know somebody like him. However, that didn't mean he wasn't shocked when he stopped by Stark's Malibu home for an Iron Man debrief and found Waverly in his living room, chatting with Pepper.

* * *

Coulson halted just inside the doorway and stared at the two females on the couch. Waverly had her legs folded underneath her, leaning sideways against the sofa's back, while Pepper reclined with one leg crossed over the other, a champagne flute in her hand and her face slightly red from laughter. Her hands pausing their wild gestures, Waverly craned her neck over her shoulder, jumping up when she saw Coulson.

"Coulson! My main federal agent man! What brings you to this fine establishment?"

Coulson blinked at her, face blank. "I came to talk to Stark about his recent adventure in Somalia. What are you doing here?" Waverly opened her mouth, but was stopped by the sudden entrance of a neon purple and green Iron Man, complete with Tony Stark's grinning head and three more champagne glasses.

"For your information, Agent Coulson, Waverly is my guest tonight. We're celebrating," he said as he handed Waverly one of the glasses, keeping the other two for himself.

"Celebrating what, exactly?"

"My brilliance." Waverly snorted into her hand. Tony ignored her, continuing. "I have just developed a brand new, state-of-the-art gadget that would blow you away."

"Except," Pepper interrupted, glancing at Tony. "It's top secret. No one's allowed to see it yet." Neither of the girls seemed very happy about that small fact. Waverly grumbled something into her drink.

"For good reason," Tony acknowledged with a finger. "The design is very complex and advanced. It's not ready yet for non-geniuses." Coulson raised an eyebrow.

"I see. And the outfit?" Tony glanced down at himself as if just noticing his suit's color. On the couch, Waverly raised her hand.

"That was me. Tony bet he could beat me in arm-wrestling. This was his penance." She looked the man over and nodded approvingly. "I already took the pictures to Photoshop." Coulson couldn't help a tiny smirk from crossing his face.

"Nice, Stark. The mighty Iron Man, beaten by a teenager."

Tony lowered his glass, a serious look on his face. He shook his head. "This girl is unreal. Seriously. I swear, she was barely trying."

Coulson glanced at Wave and she swirled her hands in a small bow. "It's a gift."

"And how do you two know each other?" Coulson asked. The two shared a look, brows creasing.

"Uh," Waverly started. "Was it that party in L.A.?"

Tony shook his head. "No, it was before that. Um, D.C. after that honoring thing for Rhodey and I?"

"No, we definitely knew each other before the crazy Russian guy. I feel like it might have been in China."

"Are you sure? I thought that was the second time. I mean, I invited you to drive my car, and I never do that the first time I meet someone."

"You never do that, period. And I'm not sixteen yet, remember?"

"Details. I learned to drive in diapers. Then, was it Texas?" Waverly snapped her fingers.

"Yes! Texas. I saved you from the fangirls." Tony rolled his eyes.

"Please, I could handle myself."

"They were dogpiling you and you couldn't breathe."

"A technicality I could easily have fixed given a few more minutes." Coulson and Pepper had been watching the conversation ping-pong back and forth, and finally Coulson cleared his throat.

"So, for a while?" They nodded. Tony took a swig of champagne.

"I love this girl. She's the only one who gets me." Waverly elbowed him. "Other than Pepper." Waverly nodded, grinning.

"I've been helping." Coulson made a noise of amazement and looked to Pepper for corroboration. She tilted her head in confirmation.

"I don't know what they do down there, but it usually involves an explosion." Tony raised a hand.

"Hey, we've only caused an explosion twice. Well, three times."

"Four," Waverly whispered.

"Really? Wow, okay, four times, by accident. And, I might add, it was Waverly's fault. I told her not to mix those chemicals."

"After I'd started pouring!"

"Yes, well, that's something else, now, isn't it?" Seeing her glare, Tony suddenly paled and hurried to change the subject. "So, you wanted to debrief me, Coulson?" Latching on to the opportunity, Coulson pulled out Iron Man's file.

"Yes. Since there was a brush with an international organization, as well as the Somalian government, I need to go over what happened with you."

Standing up, Waverly looked around the room. "Well, that seems rather boring, so if you all don't mind, I'll be leaving now."

Tony pouted. "But the celebration…"

She walked over and patted his arm. "Next time. Besides, I have a war meeting to get to." Turning around, she offered a wave to Pepper and Coulson, then began heading toward the front door. She suddenly stopped and turned. "Come to think of it, I think I left something down in the lab. See you guys later?" They nodded, calling out good-byes as she headed down the steps to Tony's workroom. Coulson took her place on the couch as they got down to business.

* * *

A few minutes later, Tony's AI's voice came on over the house's speakers. "Sir, Miss Waverly wanted me to inform you that she has departed."

Barely glancing up, Tony replied, "Very good, JARVIS."

"She also wanted me to inform you that she has received her payment for your blaming her for the lab explosions." Tony's head shot up.

"What payment?"

"Miss Waverly has decided to borrow your new prototype until you have apologized and promised never to blame her again." Tony's face became a very amusing ketchup color as he flew down the stairs, swearing. A moment after he disappeared, Coulon and Pepper heard him scream Waverly's name, accompanied by JARVIS's cool suggestion that he 'calm down and take deep breaths'. Pepper leaned back and took another sip of her champagne as Coulson stared at the stairwell. He looked at her, eyes questioning her indifference. She shrugged.

"After a few months around those two, you learn to appreciate the quiet days."

 **AN: Hey. So, sorry for not updating for over a week. School's ending in a couple weeks, but unfortunately there are still a lot of assessments left to go. I will try to be faster next time, but I can't make any promises. I have a tendency to get sidetracked. I hope you liked this chapter, even if it was just a fun thing I put in. In my defense, it had a few important parts. What do you think they were?**

 **Question: Who is your favorite Avenger, and what Avenger are you? Please review! It helps motivate me.**


	7. Chapter 7

He knew it would surprise people, but Coulson did actually have a home where he lived on days off, an apartment in Manhattan courtesy of SHIELD. It was a nice, cozy place, with a green painted bedroom, comfy living room, and tiny, starkly clean kitchen connected to a small foyer. It was a few blocks away from one of the agency's offices, a non-descript building where Coulson had an office and took care of paperwork. The office was a pretty boring place, to be honest, full of coffee monkeys and accountants, and almost made Coulson feel like he worked for a corporate business. On his 'in office' days, he usually spent his shift going through old files and writing debriefs of missions, secretly wondering when his next journey into the field would happen. At the end of the day, he'd walk the few blocks back to his apartment, staying alert the whole way, for a relaxing night of pasta and Supernanny.

* * *

It happened in late April, while he was on his way home, stepping quickly and casually between pedestrians. The weather wasn't too warm yet, but it was humid, and it was clear that summer was well on its way. Coulson almost took off his jacket before remembering he'd chosen to wear a gun on his hip today. He didn't feel like having a civilian call the police on him in a moment of fear. He picked up his pace, determined to reach his apartment before Supernanny started, and continued surveying the street he was on. Call him paranoid, but you could never tell when a high-class threat would suddenly pop up in the vicinity. It had happened before, with one of SHIELD's targets, a teleporter, literally popping into existence right next to an agent after spray painting the Abraham Lincoln Memorial blue.

It was because of his vigilance that he noticed her, sitting just inside an alley with her back against the brick wall, arms folded across her knees. She was wearing dark blue leggings and a black, almost military-looking jacket, buttoned even in the steamy weather. Coulson did a double take, not because he didn't recognize her, but because, for practically the first time since he'd met her, she wasn't smiling. Instead, she gazed at the opposite wall with a dull, hollow expression, as if she'd seen something terrible and senseless happen to it.

Coulson stopped at the mouth of the alley. His voice filled with worry, he asked softly, "Waverly?"

The teen started and swung her head around. Seeing Coulson, she leapt to her feet, plastering a wide grin on her face. "Hey, C-man. What's up?" Coulson looked her over carefully. She didn't seem to be hurt, but there was an imperceptible slump in her shoulders and her hands were clasped behind her back. Usually, they would be bouncing through the air as she talked, unable to sit still.

"Waverly, are you okay?" She looked at him with a curious, questioning look in her eyes.

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?" Coulson gave a small huff. She was good, but he'd spent years watching people's behaviors, and he had seen the look on her face before he caught her attention. He made up his mind on the spot.

"Walk with me."

Waverly raised her eyebrows. "Where?"

"To my apartment. I'm having ravioli."

A small smirk crossed Waverly's face as she considered the offer. "Well, how can I say no to that?"

* * *

From his tiny kitchen, Coulson could just see the top of Waverly's head as she sat on his couch, waiting for the ravioli to finish cooking. He nodded to himself. There was definitely something up. Normally, the teen would be following him around as she chatted his ear off, asking about his day, his recent missions, the cellist he was currently dating. The fact that she was sitting quietly in the other room meant that something was very, very wrong. And Coulson knew it was his responsibility to help, however he could.

Walking into the other room with two bowls of the carb-filled food, Coulson settled himself on the opposite couch, a comfy leather contraption that went rather well with the beige walls. Sitting back, he levelled his gaze at Waverly and started with a simple, "So."

"So…"

He cut to the chase. "Waverly, I know something's up. What's wrong?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him, an amused look on her face. Coulson mentally congratulated her on her wonderful mask. It was almost perfect. Almost. "Nothing, Coulson. Everything's fine."

"Waverly," he said, reproachfully.

"Coulson," she replied. They stared at each other. In her eyes, beneath the gleam of laughter, Coulson could see just a hint of sorrow, mixed with despair. It made him that much more resolved to find out what was going on. He crossed his arms.

"Waverly, I've known you for almost three years, and I'm a trained SHIELD agent. You're good, but you can't hide everything. Please, I know something's wrong. Tell me what it is. I can help."

She looked at him coolly, her smile fading away. "I really doubt that's true."

"Why?"

"Because there's nothing to be done."

Taken aback, he sat back on the couch, looking at her. She'd finally dropped the mask, and the solemn face was back. Now he could see the full extent of pain in her eyes. His body slumped. "Waverly, what happened?"

She leaned forward abruptly, burying her face in her hands and letting out a huge breath. After a moment, her voice wafted out from between her fingers. "To put it in agent terms, I had a mission, and I failed. Hugely."

Coulson waited a moment. "And?"

She peeked out from between her fingers. "And there was no 'and'." Coulson frowned, thinking.

"Was it bad?"

"Yes."

"People died?"

Her voice choked a little. "Yes."

Coulson stood and sat down next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Waverly. I know how much that hurts." He stopped for a second, thinking on his next words. "You know, you can't always save everyone. Sometimes, people die."

Waverly shook her head. "It shouldn't have happened."

"No. I know."

"There should have been another way."

Coulson patted her shoulder soothingly. "I know how you feel. I've had failed missions, too."

Immediately, Waverly took her head out of her hands and looked at Coulson, eyes still full of grief, but also with a steel edge. "Not on this scale."

Coulson shrugged his shoulder slightly. ""I don't know, I've had some pretty epic failures-"

"No. Not like this. Trust me." Waverly suddenly sat up straight, a touch of iron in her posture. Her eyes met Coulson's. "You've never failed like this."

Coulson was struck by the certainty in her eyes. Although he wanted to protest, he just couldn't. Finally, he settled for saying, "Do you want to talk about it?" She gave a dry chuckle.

"Definitely not."

He nodded, expecting it. With a sigh, he told her, "Well, even if I've never had a failure 'like this', I have failed missions before. I know how _that_ feels. He took a breath, "And it's awful. At night, I keep going over what I should have done, how it could have ended differently."

"I know," Waverly cut him off, springing to her feet, a storm in her eyes. "I get it, this isn't my first time either, but-"

"Waverly." Her shoulders dropped, and she fell back into the seat. "Listen to me. You can't save every soul." She opened her mouth, a wet gleam in her eyes, but he wasn't done. "I know how it feels when people die, and it's the worst thing I've ever felt. But you can't blame yourself. In the end, it's not up to you. You just have to let it go, and move forward." She was quiet, staring at the thin rug under the coffee table. There was a shine to her eyes, but no tear fell. He had one last thing to add. "Waverly, I know you don't want to talk about it now, but when you need me, I'll be here to listen. I'll help you."

Waverly sat frozen for minutes, her face unreadable. Her jaw was clenched, her body tense, and Coulson could see her struggling. He wondered how long she'd been holding the pain in. Finally, she let out a breath and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. She rolled her head to the left to look at Coulson. "Thanks." She turned her gaze to the ceiling again, then nodded to herself, sitting up. "Thanks, Coulson." He watched her as she stood up, wishing he was surprised.

"You're going now?"

"Yes," she answered. Her eyes still swam with sadness, but there was hope again. "Places to go, people to see."

"Don't be a stranger."

"I won't."

"Remember, pizza night's on Thursdays. I can put in an order for you."

The barest hint of a grin flitted across her face. "I'll let you know."

As she headed to the door, he couldn't stop himself from calling out to her. "You know, you still haven't told me who you really are."

She looked back, about to turn the corner into the foyer. She pursed her lips. "Mm. You're right."

"I don't suppose you'll ever tell me?"

Her eyes glinted with just a touch of mischief. "I will. Someday." He nodded.

"Well, remember that I'm here. You can always talk to me. And I swear I won't tell a single soul."

"I know," she said, walking to the door. "I'll keep in touch." From the foyer, she popped her head back in. "And again, thank you. I-" she paused and bit her lip. "I needed that."

Coulson smiled at the fifteen-year-old. "No problem, Waverly. It's what I do." She nodded, then disappeared. Coulson heard the door slam closed.

He sighed, leaning back into the couch. Even if he couldn't help the teen as much as he wanted, at least she knew he was there as a friend. Maybe someday she would be able to open up and tell him about her life. He promised himself that when she did, he would be there. He hadn't realized before how much of a mask she had created for herself, but now that he knew, he would keep an eye open. Then, next time, she wouldn't have to handle everything alone.

 **AN: So, this chapter was more angsty than the others have been. I felt like it was time. After all, demigods' lives aren't really sunshine and rainbows. I hope you guys liked it. And yes, I updated very fast, but hey. I have a lot of the next chapters written, and I figured I might as well.**

 **Oh, and if you guys were wondering, I want to clarify some things. One, this story is leading up to the Avengers movie. I will probably do a sequel once Coulson comes back to life, but that won't be included in this. Two, Waverly's story does actually take place during the same period of time as the PJO and HOO books. We won't see any of the characters from those series, but allusions will be made, such as the war meeting Waverly mentioned last chapter. That meeting was set a bit before the Battle of Manhattan. This is the April after that.**

 **Please review, it's much appreciated, and question: What is your favorite pairing(s) from either fandom?**


	8. Chapter 8

Coulson wasn't sure why he decided to make the video. He supposed it was because of the ravioli encounter. After Waverly had left, he'd started thinking on his last words. It was true that he always wanted to be there for her, and that he would always be willing to listen. But the fact was, he was a SHIELD agent. And agents like him often didn't have lengthy life spans. There were safety measures, yes, and SHIELD did its best not to leave anyone behind, if only because of the secrets that might be spilled. However, injury and death was always an occupational hazard. And Coulson wanted to cover his bases.

* * *

Sitting at his desk scrunched in the corner of the living room, Coulson stared at the tiny camera perched atop the laptop. A flashing light blinked in the corner. Nervously, he brushed a hand over the top of his head, then fisted his hands together, leaning forward.

"Director Fury." He stopped, twiddled his thumbs, thinking. "You probably don't remember a case you sent me and Romanoff on, three years ago. It took place in a building near Albany. To summarize, we were supposed to neutralize a crime ring, but we ended up finding a thirteen-year-old girl. She disappeared moments afterwards, and you tasked me with finding her." He let out a quick breath, leaning back in his chair. "I told you there was never any sign of her again. I told you there was no trace of her anywhere. I lied." Coulson bit his lip and crossed his arms, gazing steadily into the camera lens. "My hope is that you'll never see this and you'll remain oblivious to her existence forever. But I know that might not be the case.

"Because of that, I'll first tell you why I'm making this. I want to drive this point home. This girl is not a threat. She has never hurt anyone for an unjust cause. She is a skilled fighter and a valuable ally. And she has powers. Formidable ones. Director, I know SHIELD would find that a threat. They would track her down and force her onto the Index. And after meeting her, I couldn't allow that to happen. I-" Coulson broke off, glancing around the room. A tapping sound filled the silence as a finger hammered at the desk. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I am making this to tell you that I _have_ met her over the years, multiple times. I have gotten to know her personally, and I would vouch for her under any circumstances.

"Fury, as a SHIELD agent, I run the risk of capture and death every day. That is a hazard I willingly accept. But if something happens, I want you to receive this video, and I want you look out for her. I don't ask you to approach her, or take any surveillance measures. I simply ask that you know she is not a problem to be taken care of or observed. She has helped SHIELD from the sidelines more times than I can count, and those are the instances that I'm aware of." Feeling a new strength in his bones, Coulson sat up straight. Glaring steadily and firmly into the blinking red light, Coulson spoke with a voice full of conviction. "Director Fury, this girl's name is Waverly East, and she is our friend." Knowing Fury would appreciate the dramatics, he held the pause out for a good three seconds, then nodded, satisfied. "Thank you."

Finished, he sighed happily. A tension slowly released from his shoulders. With a thin, content smile, he ended the recording.

* * *

A few minutes later, the tape was sealed inside an opaque black plastic case with a photograph, and surrounded by twelve layers of duct tape. Stuck to the lid was a laminated note with the bolded words, 'For Fury's Eyes Only'. Tucked in the back of the top shelf of his closet, the box lay hidden under a mound of crumpled boxers. With any luck, Coulson thought, it would never be disturbed.

 **AN: Yes, this was short. Sorry about that, but I felt that anything longer would just be dragging it out. Coulson was trying to be concise for Fury.**

 **I hope you all liked it. As you can tell, this will be very important later. Oh, and in the last chapter, the line "You can't save every soul" was taken from the song 'Never Let Go' from a movie called the Guardian, which is amazing.**

 **Please tell me what you thought of this. Question: If you could have any power (including random ones like being able to summon churros, and only churros), what power would you have?**


	9. Chapter 9

Coulson really should have thought things through before complaining to Waverly. In his defense, though, he really hadn't expected any backlash, much less anything of that magnitude. All he'd wanted to do was vent a little.

* * *

His office was only twenty feet away, but to Coulson it seemed like he was looking through the wrong end of a telescope. With his arms almost falling off from the paperwork in his arms and the ticking mental clock in his head, all he wanted to do was get through the door and relax a bit. Preferably by dumping his load of bland files in an incinerator. With just a few steps to go, Coulson could already imagine leaning back in his comfortable swivel chair, just breathing for a few minutes before the next three meetings at 11:20, noon, and 1:34. Why a meeting at 1:34, of all times? His gaze fixated on the cool sheen of the door, he didn't hear the footsteps behind him, only realizing there was someone there when they called out to him.

"Coulson!" Heaving a sigh, he forced his feet to stop. Turning, he barely resisted the urge to glare at the curvy, dark-haired woman behind him.

"What is it, Maria?" She strode up with smooth, long strides, giving him a look.

"It's Agent Hill on the job, Coulson, and Fury still needs your report from the New Mexico case." After a moment, Coulson gave an 'oh' of realization.

"Right. I'll get that to him." As he spoke, he tried shifting the stack of papers up a bit. God, his arms were killing him.

"Good. And Fury wants the rest of the paperwork by midnight."

His shoulders sagged. "You're kidding me."

"No," she said with a deadpan expression. "Get on it." As she walked away, Coulson groaned. At the top of his stack, a file began to slip, and catching with his chin, he backpedaled quickly into his office. Behind him came a voice.

"You know, I keep thinking your office should be bigger." With his back still turned, a small grin flitted across Coulson's face. He pivoted and, taking a few steps, dumped the mountain of paperwork on his desk.

"Considering today, Waverly, I agree." Waverly frowned as she shook her feet out from under the files. She planted them back on the carpet.

"Uh oh. What happened?" Coulson sat heavily on the edge of the oak desktop.

"Well, for starters, they ran out of coffee downstairs, I got loaded up with around two tons of meaningless paperwork, I have seven more meetings I have to be at today, and Fury wants all the work to be done yesterday." Waverly nodded sympathetically.

"Go on."

Stress building inside of him, Coulson needed no encouragement. "I just got back from Puente Antiguo, where I was boiling for days straight, before that I was stuck in central Africa, with _no_ reception, I might add, and I haven't gotten four consecutive hours of sleep in weeks. Every time I turn around, Fury has me running off to some new corner of the globe, and when I'm not doing that he piles me up with this crap. 'Assessment of Mission's Lavatory Conditions'? Who even comes up with this? And I still have to finish my reports, so I shouldn't even be spending time talking to you!" Exhausted, Coulson stopped, heaving. After a moment, he shook his head. "I swear, Fury's going to run me to the bone."

Waverly crossed her arms with a sympathetic scowl. "That's rough. What are you going to do?" Coulson shrugged a shoulder half-heartedly.

"Do the paperwork. Got to get it done sometime." He walked around his desk, and gave Waverly a look. "Sorry, but do you mind?" She jumped up from the seat.

"No problem, Coulson-San." Coulson dropped into the seat, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Don't call me that. It reminds me too much of Thor and his 'Son of Coul', 'I shall return', 'I speaketh fancy words' talk."

If he'd looked up, Coulson would have seen Waverly raise an interested eyebrow. "Thor?"

He rolled his eyes. "Norse alien. Don't get me started."

"Okay, then." Getting the hint, Waverly headed to the middle of the room to leave, before looking back. She paused, head cocked as she surveyed the scene: Coulson in his file swamp, his tired and stressed face, his crinkled suit. A funny gleam came into her eyes.

"Coulson?"

"What?" he asked, exasperation flooding his voice.

"Do you know where I could find a manila envelope with the SHIELD symbol on it?" Coulson was so worn out, he didn't even question the request. He just opened a drawer and tossed an envelope to Waverly, barely hearing her word of thanks as he dove headfirst into work.

* * *

The next day, Coulson was feeling much better. After the meetings had finally finished, he'd barricaded himself in his office and filled out forms until his hands shook too much to be legible. He had major cramps and indents on his fingers, but he'd finally finished all the work. On top of that, he'd managed to sneak out without anyone stopping him, and had gotten a full six hours of sleep before he had to get up again. _And_ he had no meetings today. The morning was looking up.

When the elevator reached his floor, he stepped out and headed down the hall to his office, just three long corridors away from Fury's. As he walked down the hall, his senses picked up on something. A feeling in the air, a tension. Swiveling his head, he realized there was almost no one around. The few agents that did walk by were moving quickly with their heads down, like scolded puppies. Coulson's steps slowed.

"Coulson!" Feeling a sense of deja vu, Coulson looked over at Maria Hill.

"Yes, Maria?" She glared at him with a schooled expression.

"Fury wants to see you." Coulson cocked an eyebrow.

"What's it for this time?"

"He wants to question you." Coulson blinked.

"About what?" She just stared at him.

"You'll see."

Feeling very apprehensive, Coulson headed down the hallways to Fury's office. Standing before the double doors, he took a deep breath, then pushed them open.

He stared.

After a moment, he blinked, but the scene didn't change. By the window, Fury turned, arms crossed and a grim expression on his face, the picture of the dangerous spy. Except for the glitter. Coulson gawked, letting his eyes trail over his boss. It coated him completely, from head to toe, a brilliant shimmering layer of pink, purple and blue. More than that, Fury's desk, his leather chair, even the floor and walls of the room were dusted with the sparkling substance. Fury reached behind him deliberately and pulled out a plain, standard-issue SHIELD manila envelope. He held it up.

"Have you seen this before?" Coulson stared blankly at the folder, his mind racing.

"No." Fury gritted his teeth.

"Did you have anything to do with this?" Coulson shook his head, eyes wide and innocent.

"No. I had no idea."

"What about this?"Coulson squinted at the proffered piece of paper. Three words, printed clearly amid more flakes of glitter, winked back at him. 'Justice is served'. His face straight, he looked back up at Fury.

"I've never seen that before in my life, Director." A vein pulsed above Fury's eye. The man stared him down, analyzing him. Coulson stood straight, calm and politely puzzled. Finally, Fury nodded.

"You may go." Coulson turned and tramped away quickly.

* * *

He burst into his office, and immediately met the gaze of a wide-eyed Waverly.

"Well?" she asked. He strode forward, an intense look on his face.

"Did you do that?" She nodded. They stared at each other.

A moment passed.

Then Coulson burst out laughing. Waverly joined in, grinning widely. They howled and chortled, and Coulson had to support himself with his desk lamp.

"I can't believe…" he said, gasping, "that you sent… the director of SHIELD… an envelope... full of glitter!" Waverly bowed, twirling her hands.

"He deserved it!" she managed. "I needed... to avenge you… for all the work he made you do." Coulson raised an eyebrow.

"Is that all?"

Waverly gave him a satisfied smirk. "What other reason would I need?" He sobered, looking at her.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." There was silence. Then Waverly's face broke out into another grin, and soon they were breathless from laughter again.

 **AN: I hope you all liked this fun chapter. My friend once showed me a website for sending glitter to your enemies, and it just seemed too perfect to go to waste. Of course, I think that website might be banned in the US now, but you should try to look it up. It's hilarious.**

 **Okay, so I did some calculations, and there will be about three more chapters left in this story, including the epilogue. I'm thinking of doing a sequel and I want to know, how would you guys feel about that? And if you'd like one, would you want it to be more Avengers-centric or Agents of SHIELD-centric? Please give me your thoughts.**

 **Question: If you could have Tony Stark make you anything you wanted (and I mean anything), what would you ask him for? Review (please!) and have a great day!**


	10. Chapter 10

Over the years, Coulson had quickly lost track of the number of times Waverly had mentioned a friend and changed the subject. In fact, he would have bet money that if there was a record for referencing mysterious acquaintances, Waverly held it. After the first dozen times, he'd decided to accept the anonymity. After all, what were the chances that he, a government agent, would actually get to meet one of Waverly's off-the-grid friends? There was probably a higher chance of meeting Vladimir Putin. That was what Coulson thought. Still, Waverly always was one to screw the odds. He just wished she'd chosen better timing.

* * *

At the time, Coulson was in the middle of speaking with Victoria Hand, another of Fury's higher-up agents. Her precise, clipped tone grated on Coulson's ear as he tapped his foot in the hallway. He really should have invested in a wireless home phone. But he'd always considered his cell to be enough. Catching himself, he snapped back to attention just in time to catch Hand's last words.

"Wait, what?" he asked, shaking his head. "Fury's coming here?"

A sigh crackled through the phone. "Did you not hear me? Yes. The Director is on his way to your location now."

"But," Coulson protested. "This is my apartment. Why is he coming here?"

"You know how you were present when they brought the Captain out of the ice?"

Culson almost giggled at the memory. Did she mean the greatest day of his life, aside from the glitter incident? "Yes."

"Fury wants to talk to you about it. Get your insight on the Captain, review and debrief knowledge."

"And he decided to come here?"

"Yes." Hearing his unspoken question, she added. "It will be perfectly secure. Agents will take control of the area before he arrives, and stay in position until he leaves. It will be fine."

Coulson scratched his ear, shrugging. "Okay. I'll be here."

"Goodbye, Coulson." With a click, the call ended. Shaking his head, Coulson leaned against the wall. The Director of SHIELD, coming to him and not the other way around. He had a feeling this was going to be interesting. And that was before the knock on the door.

* * *

At first, Coulson had assumed that Fury had just been incredibly fast. After all, the man had a way of speeding things up tenfold when it suited him. It was only when he opened the door that he realized he was mistaken.

Waverly almost fell across the threshold in her race to get inside. She seemed wider for some reason, barely fitting through the door. Added to that, her shirt's color was split down the middle, half purple and black, half green. Come to think of it, so was her hair. Then, the pieces snapped together, and Coulson gaped at the second girl limping next to his friend. Her hair was short and a deep auburn color, curling to just above her shoulders. A patterned headband held back the ringlets, striped with orange, yellow and green zigzags. Her green V-necked T-shirt was tucked into her light pink shorts, and she wore dark purple sneakers. Her colorful outfit was a sharp contrast to Waverly's amethyst shirt, black military jacket, and dark-washed capris. Coulson's eyes caught on a deep cut on the redhead's leg, forcing her limp. Waverly didn't have any obvious wounds, but her hair was mussed and her steps were heavy on the wood floor.

Seeing his gaze, the blonde made an 'I'll explain later' face, already heading to the living room and the leather couch inside. Coulson followed numbly, stopping in the kitchen to grab a bowl of water and some towels, as well as a first aid kit from under the sink. Waverly met him halfway. As she knelt by the second girl and opened the kit, Coulson finally found his voice.

"Who's this?" Not a brilliant line, but sufficient. Waverly didn't even glance up.

"Maia. A friend." The girl in question groaned.

"No, really?" she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I think he might have guessed that already, Wave."

"You never know."

"Well, unless he's stupid-"

Coulson decided to cut in again. "Can I ask what happened?" The two girls glanced at each other. After a silence, Waverly spoke first, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"What _did_ happen? I think I missed the first part."

The Maia girl shrugged. "One of those huge scorpions showed up and knocked you into a wall. Then you kind of dissolved it. I think that might have been a reflex."

Waverly nodded. "It was. Then the other ones came back, right?"

"Yes, and they brought their lovely stingers with them."

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "Fun."

"It wasn't." After a moment of silence, Waverly finished wrapping Maia's leg. The girl flashed a thankful grin, then gave a start. "Hey, what about _your_ injuries?"

"I'm fine," Waverly answered immediately. Maia stared at her.

"But you must have been hit more than me. There were about five on you!" Instantly, Coulson made a noise.

"Right, because Waverly will ever admit to being hurt." He looked the girl over again and this time he noticed a paleness in her face, as well as the faint far-off look in her eyes. Sensing the analysis, Waverly straightened her back, casting an easy and natural grin over her features. Remembering the ravioli incident, Coulson wasn't fooled. His gaze narrowed. "You said she got knocked into a brick wall?" Maia nodded. "Right. Waverly, go take a shower." The blonde gaped at him.

"But Coulson-"

"Go, or I'll order olives next pizza night." With a shudder and a glare of betrayal, Waverly left the room. A moment later, the hiss of water sounded from the bathroom. In the living room, Coulson turned back to Maia. She was staring at him with a blank expression, eyes boring into his soul. Clearing his throat, Coulson shifted on his feet. Seeing an armchair, he sat down quickly. "So."

"So, you're the famous Coulson." Coulson tilted his head, confused.

"The _famous_ Coulson?"

"The one Waverly always talks about. She really seems to admire you."

Coulson's eyes widened. "Really?" he asked, astonishment clear in his voice. Maia's forehead creased as she smirked.

"Yeah. I hear she visits you a lot."

"Not really," he admitted. "Only every couple of weeks or so."

For some reason, that made Maia look even more amused. "That's more often than most places. Most of the time, she only drops by someplace every month. Says she likes to check in everywhere she can. Make sure stuff's okay. Takes up all her time, if you ask me."

"Oh?" Coulson couldn't help raising his eyebrows at her bluntness. He struggled to think of something else to say, but Maia kept talking.

"Yeah. I don't know, to each his own. At least she tells lots of cool stories. Is it true she glitter-bombed your boss?"

Opening his mouth to answer, Coulson suddenly froze. Oh, God. His boss. Fury. The phone call. He was on his way here right now. The agents might even be in position already. "Damn it."

Maia creased her forehead. "What? Is it something I said?"

"No. It's my boss. I just remembered, he's on his way over." Her face paled.

"The eyepatch dude?" He nodded. "That's bad. That's actually really bad. We need to get Wave. We've got to leave." Planting her feet on the ground, Maia managed to hoist herself upright. She shifted, most of her weight on her uninjured right foot, before limping down the hall. Coulson hurried after her, catching up just as Waverly opened the bathroom door, perfectly dry, an annoyed expression on her face.

"What is it?" she asked.

"We have to leave. Coulson's boss is on his way over to talk to him." Waverly's head swung to look at Coulson. He nodded vigorously. Her eyes widened, then narrowed in thought.

"How much time do we have?"

"Depending on where he's coming from, a minute or two?"

She frowned. "So not enough time to leave."

"No. Could you do that dissolving into water travel thing?"

She shook her head. "No, that doesn't work for others. Um." She looked to Maia. "Ideas?"

Biting her lip, Maia raised her eyes to the ceiling. After a moment, they swung sharply to the floor. "Coulson, are your downstairs neighbors home?"

Coulson thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No, I saw them leave the building an hour ago. Probably went grocery shopping."

"Great. Waverly, do your thing."

What thi-" Coulson started, but stopped at a knock on the door, sharp and hard. All three people froze. Immediately, Maia shot Waverly a look. Without a word, Waverly stomped on the floor. Wetness seeped out across the wooden boards, and within moments a five-foot wide section had turned to mist. Waverly grabbed the edge and swung herself down, Maia quickly following after. As the floor reformed, Coulson headed to the door. With a steadying breath, he yanked on the handle, summoning a smile as he met Fury's eye.

* * *

Coulson's heart almost stopped twice during the meeting. The first time it happened, Fury had just sat down on the couch. His brow crinkling, he'd reached behind himself and pulled out a necklace. Coulson's brain screeched to a halt. He knew right away it wasn't Waverly's; he'd only known her to wear one necklace, and that was a silver chain with a sapphire gem. This necklace had a black cord and slate-grey stone, shaped almost like a baboon. It had to be Maia's. Coulson thought fast, and answered Fury's questioning eyebrow with a quick, "It's for my girlfriend. I must have dropped it." To his relief, Fury handed the piece of jewelry back without a word, and they dove into conversation.

The second heart-stopping moment happened two thirds of the way into the debrief, when Coulson heard a door open below him. He'd worked to keep his face straight, but for the rest of the time, all he could think about was the girls downstairs, and if they'd managed to hide from his neighbors. His pulse racing, he had to keep himself from rushing Fury to the door when they finally finished. Shoulders sagging as soon as the door had clicked shut, he walked quickly back to the hallway, stopping in the middle. After a moment of consideration, he stomped the ground six times, four long, one short, one long. 'OK' in Morse code. Hopefully, the neighbors wouldn't notice the pattern, but he really doubted they knew Morse code. It almost seemed like a dead language these days.

After a minute, the hall closet door slammed open, and the two teens burst out. A vacuum cleaner tried to follow, but Maia slammed the door on it. She readjusted her headband.

"Took you long enough."

"Sorry. Are you guys okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Waverly answered. "We had to play a little hide and seek once those people got home, but it was fine. They didn't even notice us. But I think the guy was confused as to why they were out of dishwashing soap." Coulson went to open his mouth, but Maia held up a hand.

"Don't ask. Believe me, you don't want to know anything about it if the police show up." His mouth snapping shut, he nodded.

"Well," he said, changing the subject, "Fury and the agents should be gone by now. I'm guessing you guys need to head out?"

Waverly nodded. "Yes. We were supposed to be back a while ago." She snorted. "Carter will probably be throwing a fit."

Maia grinned as they headed to the door. "I'll bet he'll try to give us a lecture."

Waverly's smirk resembled a shark's. "Emphasis on 'try'. I still have a few cans of Silly String left from Tuesday."

"Oh, this will be fun." They were almost to the door when Coulson remembered.

"Wait!" The teens turned.

"What?" they asked in unison. He held up the necklace, and Maia's hand dashed to her throat. Giving a short gasp, she held out her hand. As he handed it over, Coulson took one last look at the pendant. Like he'd first thought, it depicted a crouching baboon. However, Coulson now noticed something in the creature's hand. It almost looked like a tablet and a pen, but weirder looking. Mentally shrugging, Coulson put the question aside. He leaned out the door as the two girls walked away. Glancing over her shoulder, Waverly waved, smiling widely as they turned the corner.

With a smile of his own, Coulson swung the door closed and locked it. With a rueful shake of his head, he headed to the kitchen where some cold Chinese food was waiting in the fridge. Somehow, he thought, things always got more interesting when Waverly was around.

 **AN: All right. Next chapter, we will reach the 'end' of this story, or rather, Coulson's end in this story. Then, there will be an epilogue, and it will be finished. Wow, right? Now, I'm trying to think of what to put in the sequel, but honestly, I'm running a bit short on ideas. If you guys can think of anything you would like to see, questions to be answered, or just something you think would be cool, please tell me. I'm thinking of having it set further along the Marvel timeline with some flashbacks, involving the Inhumans. Or, I could make it more of a compilation, like this story. What do you guys think?**

 **In the meantime, a little while ago I wrote a short story about Waverly when she was nine years old. Should I put it up? It would be a two-parter. It has some nice monster fighting action, as well as a little surprise. Question: What would be your choice weapon in a zombie apocalypse, and where would you go to fight/ hide?**

 **Please tell me your thoughts, have a great day, and prank someone you love!**


	11. Chapter 11

Coulson had a lot of experience with how quickly missions could go downhill. He'd had innocent in-and-outs become full-on hostage crises, and he'd seen normal days become Code Reds in the blink of an eye. He knew personally how unexpected twists could spring from a textbook routine, snapping up agents without any warning. That still didn't prepare him for the day when their bright blue, potential power source spat out an alien maniac, and it certainly didn't prepare him for what came after. In a car on his way through New York, he could only hope that he was right in thinking that Tony Stark was capable of being a hero, when he knew there were so few left in the world. And it was only after the meeting that he knew that heroes were more numerous than he'd thought.

* * *

Heading down in the elevator after the meeting, Coulson couldn't help giving a sigh. On his left, Pepper Potts glanced at him. Feeling the petite woman's eyes on him, Coulson looked over. The businesswoman's eyebrows were furrowed into a curving frown, and her sharp gaze analyzed him with the expertise needed to live with Tony Stark. He had a feeling that they saw much more than the mild distraction on the surface; they looked deeper to see the worry and nerves that were his duty to hide. After a moment, her voice softly broke the silence of the elevator. Though they were quiet and hesitant, the words sent a shock through Coulson's system.

"I wouldn't worry," she said, shifting to turn more towards him. "Whatever this is, we can handle it."

"Thanks, Pepper," Coulson replied without hesitation. "But we'll need more facts before we really know what we're up against." He tried cracking a smile he didn't feel.

"I know," Pepper said earnestly, widening her eyes in emphasis. "But you'll win. You always have before."

"I'm sure we will. If the Avengers come through."

"They're really our only hope?"

"Pretty much. They're the only real superheroes around anymore." Pepper thought about that, nibbling her lip. Suddenly, giving a short gasp, she opened her mouth, paused, then spoke.

"What about Waverly?" Coulson glanced over.

"What?"

Pepper's face shone with the energy of a three-year-old discovering how to make a mud pie. "Waverly has powers. You could ask her to come in and help!"

Immediately, Coulson shook his head, holding up a hand against her train of thought. "I can't ask her to do that. She's spent her whole life keeping away from SHIELD."

"But Tony said she's powerful. He told me she once dumped a pool's worth of water on him."

Coulson snorted a little at that. "She can do a lot more than that if she wants to, Pepper."

Now looking like the mud pie had turned into chocolate cake, Pepper spun to face him fully. "So she really could help!"

"No," Coulson said with a dismissive shake of his head. Pepper frowned.

"Why not? From what I saw of those files, you need all the help you can get."

"Because-" At that moment, the elevator jolted to a stop, the doors sliding open as JARVIS wished them a pleasant trip. As soon as they were in the lobby, Coulson continued. "Because she's only sixteen and I'm not putting her in the middle of a battle."

"But if she only worked on the sidelines-"

Coulson spun, crossing his arms. "Pepper, how much do you know about Waverly?"

She spluttered for a moment. "Well, not much, but she always seems willing to help around the house, and I've caught her trying to follow Tony on missions-"

"Pepper." Coulson took a breath. "Listen, there are a lot of details I don't know about Waverly, but I do know _her_ , and I know she's already had to fight a lot during her life to survive. I don't want her to be involved in a war, if it comes to that." He barely noticed as they started walking again, Pepper pushing open the outer doors of Stark Tower and letting in the steamy city air.

"But Phil, you have to admit she'd be a good person to have around. At the very least, you should tell her what's happened."

"Tell who what now?" The two adults swung around, then cocked their heads in unison. Still in sync, they frowned, trying to make sense of the scene in the alley. Waverly was staring back at them with a questioning face, not seeming to care about the fact that she was duct taped to the alley wall upside down by her ankle, a strange crusty yellow substance caked under her fingernails.

"Um, Waverly?" Coulson started, confusion clear in his voice.

"Some relatives. Don't ask. Although I could use some help." Pepper rushed forward immediately, and together with Coulson, Waverly was soon released from the wall. Already seeing the question on both their faces, Waverly rolled her eyes. "Seriously, don't worry about that. It was just revenge for a prank I played on some people. I deserved it. But back to the main question, tell who what now?" Pepper caught Coulson's eye with a glare and a jerk of the head. He sighed, but spoke.

"An alien named Loki just attacked a top secret SHIELD base and stole a powerful artifact known as the Tesseract with a scepter." Waverly's blank face was almost comical.

"Run that by me again?"

"An Asgardian alien by the name of Loki has declared war on Earth, and has stolen a super-powerful cube called the Tesseract."

"Loki? As in Norse god Loki?"

"Yes."

"He declared war on Earth."

"Yes."

Waverly stared at the two adults, then groaned hugely, rubbing her temples. Under her breath, she started mumbling, the two adults just barely catching some of the words.

"...And he couldn't wait until later? Dang… Uncle's gonna kill Odin… Going to mess up my entire schedule… Loki… Any worse timing?... Going to have to reschedule the trip to see the Coopers, and… Just wrapped up… Zzyx demon prison thing… Not to mention the giants..." Heaving a breath, Waverly refocused on Pepper and Coulson. "Okay, when do you need me?"

Coulson's forehead took on a shape similar to the Grand Canyon. "You don't need to do anything. SHIELD's got this."

Waverly cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. "Yes, because that makes a difference. Really, where do you need me?"

"Nowhere," Coulson said vehemently. "We're assembling a team to fight, Waverly. You don't have to worry about this one."

The other eyebrow rose to join its counterpart. "You just told me that an Asgardian is attacking the world and you don't expect me to join in?"

Coulson closed his eyes for a moment, tension tightening his shoulders. "Waverly, this may turn into an all-out war. I know you're tough, but I don't want you to have to be in the middle of that. Please, just leave it to SHIELD to handle." Waverly stared at him, an unreadable expression on her face. After a moment, she shook her head.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen." She tapped at a silver bracelet on her wrist, saying, "JOY, put Loki and all things related to the top of my priority list. Notify me of any developments." At her words, Pepper made a choking sound.

"You still have that? And you named it JOY?" Waverly grinned at her.

"Oh, yes. It's really growing on me."

"What?" Coulson asked. Waverly held up her wrist, letting him take a closer look at the plain silver band.

"Remember Tony's prototype that I borrowed?" He nodded. "Yeah, he's not getting it back. And I had a friend edit it, too!"

"You have a friend that can edit Stark tech?" Coulson repeated.

"Yeah, he's great at mechanics. You could say it's in his blood." Waverly's bracelet suddenly gave a sharp buzz. She glanced at it with a frown, then, suddenly looking more tense, started to shuffle around the adults, making her way toward the street. "But anyway, Tony can text me using this, so if you need anything, tell him to let me know. And I'll be on the lookout. I have to go now, but-"

"Wait," Coulson said sharply. Waverly stopped, waiting for him to continue. Looking at her, Coulson felt an inexplicable rush of protectiveness. Waverly's face seemed so open and innocent, alive with past laughter. Even now, she almost glowed with a happy energy. But her eyes couldn't quite hide the feelings within, the ones he'd only seen come out during the few times Coulson saw the girl fight. Deep inside, he found a hardness, a resignation to battle. In the farthest depths, almost too far down to see, glinted the painful edge of loss, of years of learning life's hardest lessons. Seeing it, Coulson's heart dipped. He couldn't help making one last-ditch effort.

"Waverly, you don't need to do this. We could handle it." He already knew he wasn't getting through, so Coulson added, "SHIELD would learn about you. You wouldn't be able to hide from them again." Framed by the light of the New York streetlamps, the teenager's face was sunk in shadows and pockets of artificial light. Still, Coulson could see the slightly wistful smile as clearly as if it were noon in Arizona. When Waverly spoke, the words were cloaked in a playful condescension.

"Coulson, what kind of person would I be if I didn't help, especially if it was just to protect myself? Come on. It's the only right choice." She swiveled, about to leave, but stopped. Her back turned, she seemed to consider something. Then she looked back over her shoulder, catching the adults' eyes. "Besides. Saving the world is what I was born to do."

Pepper looked confusedly at her, but it was Coulson who spoke. " What do you mean?"

Waverly's eyes were lit like shining sapphires as she turned away from the two grown-ups. Her voice trailed back to them as she headed into the night. "Don't worry. After this threat's over, I'll tell you." And her outline faded to shadow.

* * *

A few days later, as Coulson's life flitted away and Fury's face grew dim, one last thought swirled down through his draining consciousness, full of regret and sorrow.

 _I'm sorry. I'll never know…_

 _I'm sorry you won't get to tell me._

 **AN: Yes, so there's that. Last chapter with Coulson. Dun dun dun, the end. Except for the epilogue type thing. Then, I will get to the sequel. It may take a little while to get a few chapters written, so in the meantime, do you want me to put the two-part Waverly at nine story up?**

 **Please, please review, guys. I could really use the feedback on what you think, and it will help me when writing in the future. Plus, it would just be really nice.**

 **Question(s): What do you think JOY stands for? Use your imagination! I might use one of your acronyms in the future.**

 **If you could prank one of the Avengers, who would you prank and how would you do it?**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Here it is. The end to _Who is This Girl?_ I hope you all like it. PLEASE READ THE BOTTOM. Presenting a new perspective: Fury! Enjoy!**

New York was finally getting back on its feet. It had taken three weeks, twelve press conferences, forty-two cranes and bulldozers, and about 17 thousand buckets of coffee, but the city and its inhabitants were almost fully recovered from the Chitauri attack. And although SHIELD was still dodging questions from governments around the world, Fury felt he had almost all of the loose ends wrapped up. All except one.

* * *

Wrapped in his trademark black leather trench coat, Fury gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Manhattan office, taking in the partially rebuilt skyline. Silhouettes of scaffolding and framework created stenciled pencil marks against a glowing sky. The fading sun bounced across newly installed windows, lighting them up and transforming skyscrapers into pillars of diamonds. Copper clouds striped across pink and gold.

Fury gave a sigh that was only partially in response to the view. Though it was incredible, his attention was more caught by the object in his hands, a plain plastic box still coated in sticky residue from the duct tape that had covered it. He twisted the box between his fingers, listening as its contents shifted slightly.

He hadn't expected Coulson to leave anything behind. He'd known the man was prepared for a mission to become his final one; every SHIELD agent knew the risks. It would have been foolish not to be ready for the inevitable. But he hadn't expected anything like this. Coulson just hadn't seemed like the kind of person to leave such messages. Giving someone his prized pencil blowgun, that would have been more his style.

But apparently Fury hadn't known Coulson as well as he had thought. Or at least, he mused as he examined the photograph in his hand, he hadn't known him as well as someone else had.

* * *

Two weeks and four days later, Fury was counting down the minutes as he relaxed on a weathered wrought-iron park bench, cool under the shade of the Central Park trees. He was also feeling rather pleased with himself. It hadn't been an easy feat, tracking the girl down, especially since, due to the sensitive nature of the task, he couldn't use standard SHIELD resources. But although there were some aspects of his hunt that he never wanted remember, he had done it. He'd found the girl he had forgotten about so long ago, and that Coulson apparently hadn't had as much trouble with as he'd thought.

Well, Fury corrected, he hadn't found her yet. But with the help of the photograph Coulson had left behind, as well as the New York surveillance cameras, that moment was only a few seconds away. He swept his eye over the busy park path yet again, his gaze sharp and calculating. If the spotty footage was to be believed, the girl liked using the narrow, tree-lined cut-through when in the city, and if his sources were correct, she had taken the subway into New York just under two hours ago. To anyone else, coming here would seem like a shot in the dark, but Fury had a funny feeling she'd be coming through today. And after more than a decade as the director of SHIELD, he'd long ago learned to trust his funny feelings.

Suddenly, a shock shot through his brain, and his back straightened. His sight narrowed onto a figure turning the corner of the path. Long, golden-blond hair tucked back behind her ears, light blue eyes, and deep, chestnut colored boots with cobalt detailing. The girl. Casually, Fury uncrossed his legs, getting up languidly, movements smooth. He slid his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat and strode toward his target at an easy, strolling pace.

She noticed immediately. Mentally, he commended her for her lack of action. Instead of jumping or tensing up, the teenager met his gaze coolly. As he drew closer, the corner of her mouth twitched up a bit and she tilted her head. The laughing look in her eyes challenged him. Suddenly wondering if there was a threat he didn't know about, he surveyed the girl again. She was dressed in a grass green tank top and light-washed jean shorts, a silver and blue necklace dangling from her neck. Two rings glinted on her fingers, and a pair of earbuds were visible in her ears, the cord trailing down to the pocket of her shorts.

Now only a few paces away, the girl slowed to a stop. Popping out one of the earbuds, she cocked an eyebrow at Fury.

"Yes?" she asked. With her arms crossed and her relaxed stance, anyone else would have thought she was simply a disinterested teenager annoyed at the unexpected delay. But Fury was a government agent, the director of the world's leading spy organization. He noticed the sharp edge in the girl's gaze, and the slightly tensed muscles. Noticing these things interested him. Coulson had said the girl was a fighter, and Fury could already see that. In addition, she'd obviously had a lot of experience in order to be so unconcerned right now. Fury couldn't help it. He was intrigued.

"Are you Waverly East?" The girl didn't move at all, her posture still careless, her expression unworried.

"I doubt I need to answer that. You wouldn't have come over here if you weren't sure." Inside, Fury chuckled. She really did have experience. Making a snap decision, he decided to quit the dramatics.

"Miss East, my name is Nicholas Fury. I'm from an agency called SHIELD. I know you've heard of it." A flicker of something flashed across her face. Fury continued. "I recently gained intelligence that you knew one of my agents. A man named Phil Coulson."

"What about him?" Waverly asked, eyes narrowing. Fury gave no pause.

"He was killed during the recent attack on New York." Immediately, the girl froze, a breath of air heaving its way into her lungs before catching. Her cheeks reddened slightly, as if all the blood had rushed to her head. The girl's sight focused on a point past Fury, giving him a full view of the wild storm roiling in her sea-colored eyes. They churned with a feeling Fury couldn't find the words to explain, a mix of terror and grief, shattered by lightning strikes of something like fury. Her body shuddered, like glass on the edge of shattering. Then, in another moment, the emotions seemed to drain out, and Waverly sagged slightly. She looked back at Fury, a deep sadness all that was left of the storm. A bit taken aback, Fury stared at the teenager, who suddenly resembled an elderly war veteran.

"And?" The word struck him like a slap. Instantly, Fury marshaled himself back into order, again taking on the appearance of a tough government agent unswayed by emotion.

"And he left something behind. A box, with a video and a picture of you." The girl's eyebrows furrowed, curiosity creeping across her face. "The video was of himself. He made it to tell me about you. He said he wanted it to be clear that you weren't a threat to us, that you were a powerful ally. A friend, as he put it." Fury paused for effect, all the while watching the girl's face. "He made sure to say that it wasn't necessary to approach you; in fact, he asked us not to."

"But you did anyway," Waverly cut in, lifting an eyebrow in question.

"Yes." Seeing her expression, Fury added, "I like to follow up for myself. Make my own decisions. I'm sure you can understand that. I just wanted to make sure you're really on our side."

"And what's your definition of 'our side'? SHIELD?" she asked, voice tense but not hostile, yet.

"I'd say it's more humanity's side. SHIELD fights to protect all of humankind from threats. We might not always do things the polite way, but we get things done." Fury stopped again, narrowing his eye. He opened his mouth. "Coulson said that you have powers."

The girl stared him down unflinchingly. " Do you want to put me on your precious Index?"

Fury folded his arms. "Coulson advised against that." The girl glared at him for a moment more, then took a breath, seeming to make a decision. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a metallic bracelet and tapped it, then yanked out her remaining earbud. Stuffing it away, she matched Fury's stance.

"Okay. Here's what you need to know. Yes, I have powers. But I'm not going to tell you what they are, because I don't trust you yet. I know Coulson liked you, and that helps your case, but I don't know you, so I have to go stranger danger on this one.

"As for if I'm on your side? I'm with anyone that helps the world and protects the people. So yes, we're on the same side, unless you guys decide to join the demolition and domination team. If that happens, I'll be your worst nightmare. How's that?"

Fury pursed his lips, looking decidedly unsatisfied. "How do I know you won't turn on us and join the other side yourself?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "Dude, I've had plenty of chances. And believe me, some of them were very tempting. If I haven't switched yet, why would I?" Fury's face remained a carving on a cliff. With an exasperated sigh, Waverly put a hand on her heart. "I promise you, I will only act in the interest of the world and its inhabitants. I will never do anything to harm them. I will save all I can, and I won't stop. You don't have to worry about me."

After a moment, Fury nodded. "All right, then. I think my work is done here."

Waverly's brows shot up. "Really?" Fury nodded. "Oh. Okay. So, can I go now?"

"Yes," Fury answered. "I won't be bothering you again, unless there's a reason." Waverly looked a bit put out, but she shrugged and, with a last slightly wary glance, stepped around Fury to continue on her route. After a moment, Fury turned and called after her. "Hey!" She looked back, eyes questioning. "Nice work during the alien invasion. That was some good swordplay." At her slack-jawed face, Fury finally let go of the grin he'd been hiding. He even chuckled a little. "There are such things as security cameras, Miss East. See you around." Then he spun and strode away, a tiny spring in his step. God, he loved dramatics.

 **The End**

 **AN: Ta-da! Finished. Wow, I'm proud of myself. So, did you guys like it?**

 **Okay, just have to say a few things. One, please tell me what you thought, either of this chapter or the story as a whole. Please, guys, I'm begging. Only a few people have reviewed each chapter, and while I'm so grateful to them (THANK YOU), this is this story's last part. PLEASE, leave some final comments.**

 **Second, I'm sorry, but you may have to wait a little while for the sequel. I'm working on some other stories, too, that I haven't posted yet, but I will get to the sequel soon! I may even get some of it done today, with the proper encouragement (hint, hint).**

 **Alright, that's about it. Have a lovely day, everyone, and Question: What is your absolute favorite fanfiction story, and published story?**


	13. The Sequel

Hi, everyone!

The first chapter of the sequel, Hounds and Jackals, is officially out. If you liked this, please check it out!


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